An Ever Fixed Mark
by CottageGhost
Summary: Takes place within the dream the Captain gave the family in The Ghost of Christmas Past. A look at the events that might have led up to that Christmas morning homecoming...


**Disclaimer: **Nope, still not mine; they belong to Fox (and Sean O'Casey to Tabitha12) until someone says otherwise, save for Nathan, whom I officially claim in the name of my private Maple Syrup Republic :-)

Thanks to Mary for allowing me to invite Sean over for a little bit. Much appreciated!

* * *

**_An Ever-Fixed Mark_**

This voyage had been doomed from the start.

Looking back, Captain Daniel Gregg had known deep in his bones that it would be so; he had simply ignored the telltale signs against his better judgment, he now chastised himself silently as he dried his hair after yet another encounter with foul Atlantic weather. It had all started with their cargo coming in late, which in turn had delayed the loading. Then the ship had sprung a leak on its way from Greece – nothing major, but it had been so persistent and difficult to pin down that making port had become something of an imperative midway through their transit toward Spain. Once there, the repairs had taken longer than expected, the leak having grown in size during their short trip across the Med. It was late in the shipping season; a decision had to be made as to whether they would try to make the passage back to America, despite the Atlantic's notorious winter tantrums, or lengthen their stay here and try to take advantage of what the Mediterranean had to offer. They elected to go home.

The Captain shook his head as he threw the now-soaked towel over the back of his desk chair. He'd been called mad before, but he'd never believed himself to be so – until now. His lips twisted into a rueful smile; but then, how else was he supposed to act when he was madly in love with the woman of his dreams?

Getting up from his bunk, he moved to his desk and, with a long sigh, reached out to touch a pile of letters resting on top of it. They were all unopened; they were all unsent. He'd written to Carolyn on a regular basis throughout this voyage, if only to keep himself sane. Oh, he'd loved other women enough to write to them, certainly. But not like this; never like this. Every wave he crested away from her was one more breath crushed out of him; she was his ever-fixed mark, his constant, the beacon he sought at the end of every voyage. He had to get back to her – assuming the elements would let him, he thought with a touch of trepidation.

A knock on the door made him look up. "Come," he called quietly. In walked Nathan Roberts, his interim first mate, looking as soaked as Daniel had been a few moments earlier. Daniel's first thought was that he was fresh from the deck, but then he remembered the leak starting anew with a vengeance, and he wasn't so sure anymore. The look on his friend's face was foreboding, to say the least. "All right, mate; let's have it."

Nathan wasn't sure how to begin. The news he had was far from good, and while he knew his friend was experienced enough to have gathered most of it on his own, it still didn't make it easy to spell out. Spying the used towel on the back of the chair, Nathan gestured at it. "Mind if I use that?"

_That can't be good_, Daniel thought. If Nathan, who had no qualms about speaking his mind, felt he needed to buy time, then his report would definitely not be pleasant. "It's fairly soaked, Nate," Daniel said, still handing it to him.

Nathan smiled crookedly as he grabbed the wet piece of fabric and quickly went to work on his own hair. "Can't be worse than I am now," he said lightly enough, doing his best to stretch the moment out and keep Daniel from looking directly into his eyes for as long as possible. A perceptive chap he was, Daniel Gregg; very few things escaped those crackling blue eyes of his, especially where his friends were concerned.

Meanwhile, Daniel was watching his friend, concerned by what he was going to say, but also willing to give the man his time. Straightforward he might be, but Nathan hated few things in this life more than bringing bad tidings to people he cared about, and Daniel, quite humbly, knew himself to be among the lot. When, finally, Nathan looked back up at him, Daniel had time to be mildly shocked by the week's growth of beard darkening his first mate's cheeks. For as long as Daniel had known him, Nathan had never worn a beard. Ever. That, strangely enough, told him more about the direness of their situation than any report. _Might as well get this over with_, he thought grimly. "It's that bad, eh?"

Nathan winced a little at the note of resignation in his captain's voice. So he had been right; he had pretty much figured the whole thing out. He sighed in defeat. "I'm afraid we've been licked this time, Captain. I'm sorry."

Daniel looked at his first mate in silence for a few seconds, then looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly as he did so. "Blast."

Nathan swore silently to himself. It was bad enough having to break bad news to your superior; but having to tell your best friend that not only was his cargo as good as lost, regardless of their next course of action, but that he might also not be able to be home for Christmas, as he had promised his wife-to-be… Watching his friend, Nathan noticed anew how Daniel's hand rested on a small pile of envelopes on his desk. He knew what they were and who they were for. He also knew his friend was probably living a thousand deaths even now precisely because he had elected not to send them from their last port of call, figuring he'd get home well before they did. As things currently stood, there was a very real chance that neither the letters nor the ship itself would make it home, and Daniel knew that, as well as or better than anyone else on board. Nathan squared his jaw, refusing to lie down and give up, especially on his friend's behalf. _Come hell or high water, you're going home to be married and happy, or my name's not Nathan_, the first mate swore fiercely to himself. "Listen. I just had a good long talk with the carpenter. Now, he's not ready to swear this on his mother's grave, but he thinks we can actually make it home -- on certain conditions."

Daniel studied him in silence, his face neutral. "Go on," he said softly.

Nathan sighed inwardly, glad to see he had gotten his friend's attention. "All right: the most obvious option would be to turn back, right now, and try to make port in Spain, maybe even France on this heading, find ourselves a drydock and work on putting this blighted leak to pasture while using the opportunity to sell what part of our cargo is still salvageable."

"Which means we don't get home for a while yet. Not to mention that we wouldn't turn up that much of a penny trying to sell this merchandise here, considering how easily available it already is given the proximity." Nathan nodded. "Hmm. What's the other option? Because I assume you have something else to offer me," Daniel said with a hint of a smile that warmed Nathan's heart right up.

"I've made it my mission in life to please you, you know that," Nathan replied cheekily. Daniel snorted, even though the look in his eye remained serious. Nathan sobered. "You probably won't like it, but it's the only other solution we could think of: we drop the cargo overboard and stay our course." Getting no reaction other than a raised eyebrow, Nathan took a deep breath and went on. "We'll have to caulk the hull and make the joint as tight as we can make it, and man the pumps pretty much all the way home, but Quinn thinks we can do it. But it _does_ mean sending our profit by the deep six, so to speak." Nathan watched as his friend and commanding officer stroked his beard, deep in thought, even as his other hand played absently with the silk ribbon holding the letters together. Even though he felt for his friend, Nathan had to smile a little at the fact that, for once in Daniel's life, the call of the land drowned out that of the sea. Seeing doubt play itself on Daniel's handsome features, Nathan added, "And if you're worried about what the men will say, don't be; they're every bit as sick of this weather as we are. All they want at this point is to go home."

Daniel looked up at his first. Had that pronouncement come from anyone else, it would have given him pause. But the simplicity of the words, coupled with Nathan's frank gaze, essentially took the decision out of his hands. "In that case, pass the word: dump the cargo. We're going home."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_Widow's walk – what a horrible name for such a lovely place_, Carolyn thought sadly as she paced that very piece of the Gull Cottage property. She shivered despite the heavy folds of her dress. Winter had arrived, in deed if not in fact, and seemed quite intent on staying. Evening had hardly begun than it was already black as night. _Not much chance of my seeing anything_, she thought, annoyed, before feeling her lower lip start to quiver slightly as despair started to clutch at her heart. _Assuming there's anything to be seen_, the thought finished itself as she looked away from the bay. Daniel had been quite good at writing to her throughout this latest voyage, up until about a month ago. Since then, nothing. Reflexively, she caressed Daniel's last letter, which she had been keeping near at hand since hearing a few weeks ago that there had been a terrible storm right along Daniel's itinerary. Carolyn had managed to put a good face on it at the time, hoping against hope that maybe the ship had been delayed or that they had taken another route altogether. But as Christmas, a mere week away, approached, hope began to falter, much as she tried not to let it. _Leave it to me to find my soul mate and lose him before we can even get a start on our life together_, Carolyn thought as she let out a tremulous breath, heavy with a sob she resolutely refused to air. She'd never felt like this about anyone before; oh, she'd loved her husband well enough, but her feelings for him were virtually nonexistent compared to what Daniel Gregg evoked in her. Despite her dark mood, she had to smile as she recalled what her mother had once told her about finding the right man. It had to be someone 'you could be silent with', she had said, a secretive smile playing on her lips. Carolyn hadn't really understood what that meant until meeting Daniel. He could be talkative enough, she supposed, but he mostly kept to himself, preferring silence to long, drawn out conversations. At first, she had thought he was thoroughly bored with her; but on one of their earlier meetings, he had smiled and looked at her in such a way that words could only have cluttered up a crystal-clear message: he loved her as she had never been loved before and, she suspected, more than he had ever loved anyone. The smile faded suddenly. _I hope she gets to meet him…_

"Mrs. Muir? Mrs. Muir, are you – ah, there you are." The voice clucked. "You really shouldn't be out there in this weather; you'll catch your death!"

_At least that way, I could haunt Daniel and be close to him, _Carolyn thought with a touch of gallows humor. Out loud, she said, "I'm fine, Martha." Before she could say anything or go back to her scrutiny, she felt a heavy piece of fabric being placed around her shoulders. A lump came to her throat as she realized it was the silk shawl Daniel had given her.

"You're fine now," the older woman said sternly, "but you won't be dodging the ague for much longer if this keeps up. Then it'll be _my_ head the Captain will have on a platter." Softening at the forlorn look on the younger woman's face, Martha entreated, "Why don't you come back inside, child, and have a drop of Madeira to warm up? There's nothing to see out here."

Oh, those words, dreaded beyond all others! Turning, Carolyn gave Martha a look that was so beseeching the older woman nearly took a step back. "Will there ever be?" Carolyn asked in a tortured whisper, on the verge of finally giving in to despair.

Not quite sure what else to do, Martha drew the younger woman into her arms and held her tight. When she could find her voice, she said quietly, "Of course there will be. The Captain's a man of his word; he'll move heaven and earth to keep his promise." Pulling back, she brushed away the few tears Carolyn hadn't been able to hold back. "Which means you don't have that much time to make yourself presentable to him. Come on inside, girl, and I'll tell you about some of the _real_ scrapes he's been in."

Sniffling a little, but feeling somewhat comforted, Carolyn allowed herself to be led inside after casting one last, longing look at the dark waters of the bay.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Nathan ducked under the low hanging jamb of the opening leading to the hold, muttering darkly under his breath at the weather outside. He was drenched – again – and he'd had to look on the way there if he still had fingers, so cold were his hands. Once inside, he had to allow his eyes to adjust to the comparatively brighter room. Unfortunately, once they did, the water didn't disappear; it kept right on sloshing about with the pitch of the ship and the shuffling feet of the men trying to keep their footing as they manned the pumps. Not surprisingly, one of the men doing the pumping at the moment was their captain. Nathan shook his head resignedly; he, Sean O'Casey – the actual first mate Nathan was covering for – and the Captain had had many a spirited discussion on whether or not a commanding officer should "lower" himself to the level of the crew. As far as Nathan could tell, it was still a draw between himself and Daniel; Sean, for the most part, had wisely kept his peace, except when the discussion would begin to falter, at which point he would obligingly stoke it and sit back to enjoy the fireworks. _Let's hope we can have many more of those_, Nathan prayed fervently. Having caught Daniel's attention, he waited as the Captain arranged for a replacement, then gingerly made his way toward Nathan. Moving to the other side of the bulkhead, Daniel leaned tiredly against a strut, waiting for Nathan to say his piece. "You don't have to do that, you know," the first mate finally said, knowing his friend had probably seen this coming and didn't care.

"I know."

Nathan grunted. "How are we doing?"

Daniel shrugged slightly while massaging his right shoulder. "It looks like it's leveled off. Assuming the weather cooperates – which I'm guessing it's not, from the looks of you," Daniel said with a frown, taking in his friend's appearance in the low light. "How are things topside?"

"We've got freezing rain out there, and I swear I felt a couple of ice pellets. The deck's getting kind of slippery, so watch your step when you go out." Nathan blew on his hands and carefully flexed his fingers, some of which were bandaged. "Oh yeah – I took the cat to your cabin," he added as a bit of an afterthought, the questioning look on Daniel's face at the sight of the bandages not lost on him.

Daniel shook his head disapprovingly. "I told you to wait for me to get her!"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Well, what else was I supposed to do – let her drown or freeze to death in the meantime? After the trouble you went to to save her, that would hardly be fair, would it?" Rubbing the wound lightly, he shrugged. "It's not that bad, anyway. But I swear, I'll never understand the feline mind. It's you she should be mad at for the dousing she got, not me. I'm the one who dried her off and let her sleep on my bunk."

Despite everything, Daniel chuckled. "They don't call cats 'she' for nothing, my friend." Sobering, Daniel looked in the direction of the hold and, working his shoulder a bit, straightened up reluctantly. "I'd better go back there --"

Nathan motioned him off. "Nah -- I'll go. You could use a change of clothes and a couple hundred winks, seems to me. Don't worry; I'll wake you up if there's an emergency."

Daniel hesitated briefly, then nodded, honestly grateful for the respite. He wasn't sure he'd do much sleeping, but the thought of lying flat on his back for a few hours was decidedly inviting. "All right," he granted, "you win." He smiled as he couldn't resist a parting shot. "While you're at it, you might want to think up a way of doing this mechanically; I'm getting too old for this."

"Well, if you stuck to your duties as captain, you wouldn't _be_ in a position to feel your age," Nathan replied without a single trace of pity. "But for your information, I'm working on it. Seriously," he added as Daniel made a face. "I'm not O'Casey, you know; it's not like I can get the parts I need for a song."

Daniel nodded, conceding the point. Sean was known far and wide throughout the service as having the voice of an angel, a talent he had put to very good, and sometimes peculiar, use. On one of the more memorable of such occasions, the first mate had gone ashore with Nathan, in search of much needed stores for the crew. But, being far into their shipping season, as they were now, the produce was scarce, as was the money to buy it with. After an hour or so of fruitless transactions, Sean had found an empty cart lying around and, bringing it to the middle of the small market they were in, promptly hopped on it and started singing, first to the surprise, then the delight of all and sundry. Nathan, who had "an earful of tin", as he liked to put it, and couldn't tell the difference between music and mayhem, would later say that his hair stood on end from the first note to the moment the two men returned, triumphant, with a cart full of produce and other much needed items_. I wonder where he is now_, Daniel thought with a mixture of worry and sadness, hoping his friend was faring well. He was on another one of the occasional leaves of absence he took to go search for his lost wife. Daniel sighed_. They made beautiful music together; I hope they get to do more of it, in this life or the next. Preferably this one_, he prayed, speeding the thought on to his missing friend. He was glad he could count on Nathan when Sean went off on his quest. The younger man was every bit as dependable as the Irishman, even though he was as different from him as could be; where Sean had more of a sentimental, even whimsical turn of mind, Nathan was never happier than when left alone in his corner, surrounded by assorted pieces of equipment, to try and find ways to create something out of the apparent chaos. Still, they got along well, to Daniel's occasional grief.

Shaking his head and smiling, he clapped Nathan on the shoulder encouragingly. "That may well be, but you have talent as well -- in your hands. I'm sure you'll find a way to let them work their magic."

Nathan ducked his head with a shy smile, always a little embarrassed when he got complimented. "I hope so," he replied only half-jokingly. "Look at it this way," he continued, a twinkle in his hazel eyes as he took his jacket off and prepared to enter the hold, "If I start to sing, you'll know we're in trouble for sure!"

Daniel shuddered. "Perish the thought!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Carolyn stepped out of her uncle's office, fitting the heavy, woolen cloak more snugly around her shoulders as she started down the street and headed for home. The thought made her smile – Gull Cottage _had_ become her home; in fact, the house had felt like home from the moment she first crossed its gate, which had surprised her somewhat. She and Daniel had already met a number of times by then, but only in town. When he had invited her over, she had readily accepted, more than a little curious about the place he called home. The fact that everyone in town seemed green with envy every time Gull Cottage entered a conversation, not to mention the way Daniel spoke about it, only fuelled her imagination. Taken as she was with his description of the place, she still fully expected to find a man's home. Instead, she found poetry: a ship under sail, the wind in the rigging – a piece of Daniel's life at sea on land and a tantalizing hint of what lay behind her love's beguiling azure eyes. She wondered if he even had time to miss her half as much as she did him. She hoped so, even though she was pragmatic enough to realize there probably were too many demands on his time for him to do anything but grant her a thought in passing before moving on to his next task. Yet, when she thought of all those letters he had sent… She blushed in the frigid air, recalling the words with crystal clarity, so eloquent and elegant they were. She recalled with equal clarity the tortured look in his eyes on the day of his departure, at the end of summer, an eternity ago. She had walked him as far as the end of the low stone wall surrounding the property, where he had stopped, turned and enveloped her in a warm, tender embrace that he had seemed in no hurry to break. Then, after depositing a gentle kiss on her brow, he had bent his forehead to hers and released a long, weary sigh. _"I don't want to leave."_

The words came unbidden, making Carolyn's pulse quicken just as they had on that day and her stomach clench in response to the pain she had heard in his voice. On the one hand, she was flattered that he loved her to the point of not wanting to leave, but on the other, she well knew what the sea meant to him. Hard as it was to see him go, it was also part of what had drawn her to him, that siren call that kept tugging at his heart and soul.

She had moved her hands to his face and kissed him, hoping that it would take some of the pain away rather than cause more. _"As happy as that makes me, I couldn't keep you away from something so dear to you."_

He had groaned softly and pulled her closer. _"That's not what you're supposed to say! You're supposed to try and seduce me into your evil web, to be entrapped there forever."_

Carolyn smiled as she remembered the teasing tone in his voice, as well as the hint of seriousness he hadn't been quite able to conceal. _"Tempting," _she had allowed, _"but I don't want a slave; I want you as you are, free as the wind."_

He had shaken his head fondly at her before bending his head to kiss her once more, lingeringly, steeling himself to leave. Pulling back reluctantly, he had said, _"I'll be home for Christmas, I promise."_

_"Daniel – "_

His forefinger had pressed gently against her lips, effectively silencing her. _"I promised your children, I promised Martha; now I'm promising you, most of all. I _will_ be here."_ He had smiled slightly as his finger traced her mouth delicately. _"Is that clear?"_

_"Aye aye, sir," _she had responded with a soft smile of her own, gladdened by the sight of it on his face. Smiling wider, she had reached up to her hair and untied one of the ribbons holding her golden locks in place. _"Here. You can give it back to me once you come home."_

Carolyn's breath caught a little as she remembered how he had grasped the small strip of fabric, holding on to the silky thread as if his very life depended on it. Still holding it, he had taken hold of her hands and brought them to his lips, holding them there for long seconds before straightening up and stepping back. After tracing her cheek tenderly with a callused finger, he had put his cap on, nodded his farewell at her and left, without another look back. Carolyn had watched him for a few brief seconds and quickly turned away, refusing, as he had, to actually say goodbye, fearing the potential finality of it.

And there she was, a mere evening away from Christmas Eve, standing on the exact same spot she had last seen Daniel all those months ago. Though she tried to fight the feeling, Carolyn was becoming more and more resigned to the fact that Daniel wouldn't be home tomorrow as he had promised. While disappointed, she much preferred being deprived of his presence for a while longer than have to face the devastation of bad tidings following a failed voyage.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, Carolyn forced all her frustration, disappointment and fear into stillness and sought that hard, warm core of hope and faith that had kept her going thus far. When she felt strong again with the confidence that Daniel would come home to her, she straightened up, sent a silent prayer her love's way and walked into Gull Cottage, to wait yet another night and another day.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Nathan turned up his collar as he came up on deck, shivering a little in the cold air. Temperatures had dropped considerably overnight, but at least the sky had cleared, the rain and sleet had let up and the sea had calmed down somewhat. While the ship wasn't exactly flying over the waves, she wasn't sinking further either. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he slowly ambled along the deck, casting a weather eye first about the ship, then skyward, nodding to himself in satisfaction at what he saw. Fate had thrown down the gauntlet; they had picked it up and, apparently, they had won. Acknowledging that luck had as much to do with their survival as blood, sweat and tears, Nathan crossed his fingers in silent entreaty to Fortune to keep smiling down on them.

As his gaze swept the rest of the deck, he spied the Captain, standing alone at the prow, virtually as still as the figurehead hanging stalwartly above the waves just beneath him. Watching him, Nathan couldn't help but smile a little and shake his head wonderingly. He had seen his captain and friend find favor with quite a few of the ladies, but never in all the time they had known each other had he seen the Captain so bewitched by a woman. And with good reason – he'd had the privilege of meeting the lady in question, and it had taken Nathan all of the time needed to cross the threshold into Gull Cottage to see why his friend was so taken with her. If ever a match was made in Heaven, this was it.

The first mate found himself smiling wider as he approached his captain and asked, "Want me to tie you to the mast and stuff your ears with wax?"

At first, Daniel didn't react, then did a small double take at seeing Nathan so close. He frowned slightly in confusion. "What?" Before his friend even had time to respond, Daniel's face cleared and his cheeks reddened a touch as the words finally registered. "Oh. That obvious, eh?"

Nathan chuckled and shook his head reassuringly. "Not really. Well, to me, yes" he amended, "but then, I'm privy to inside information the crew doesn't need to know. Unless you want them to, of course." Noticing how the other man's hand clamped down on the rail, Nathan sobered and said softly, "You'll see her soon, never fear."

"You sound entirely too sure of yourself."

Nathan shrugged. "Never hurts to see the bright side of things. Besides, I have a vested interest in your safe return."

That got Daniel's attention. "Oh? And what kind of interest would that be, pray?" he asked a little suspiciously.

"My life." At his friend's raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "Just being my regular, practical self. I figure that if I don't make sure you get back home, that Amazon you're planning on marrying will tear me to pieces and feed me to the sharks the moment I set foot on the dock. So don't think sentimentality has anything to do with it; it's strictly a matter of self-preservation." Nathan nodded to himself and looked toward the horizon, eyeing Daniel from the corner of one eye as he waited for his reaction.

As he had expected, it wasn't long before the Captain's mouth twitched and broadened into a smile, accompanied by a low, rich chuckle. He bowed his head to his friend, in acknowledgment of a point well made. "I deserved that," he conceded with a grateful smile. "However, on Carolyn's behalf, I feel compelled to point out that she's hardly an Amazon."

Undeterred, Nathan shook his head as he fished his pipe out of his jacket and proceeded to light it. "Don't let her appearance fool you; there's a lot more there than first meets the eye." Realizing what he'd just said, he looked back at his friend with a crooked, slightly bashful smile. "But you'd know that already, wouldn't you?"

Smiling back a little shyly himself, Daniel nodded before turning his gaze back on the sea and the horizon just beyond which lay home. "Oh, aye," he said softly, longing and admiration ringing clear in his voice. "I do indeed…"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Nearly half a day later, Daniel took a quick look around his room at the Inn, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Not that he'd had much of a chance to spread himself around; they had made port around midnight, and by the time the ship had been tidied up and arrangements made for berthing and repairs, half the night was gone. Daniel didn't think he would have been able to sleep anyhow; he was far too keyed up at the thought of having made it back to Schooner Bay in time for Christmas, as promised, to do any such thing.

Picking up his canvas bag and gloves, he glanced at his watch – quarter to five. Knowing Carolyn's skinflint of an uncle, Daniel had no doubt he'd have her working today till the very last possible second. _I should be able to make it home before she leaves for work_, he thought as he returned the instrument to his jacket pocket. _At worst, I'll catch her on her way here._ Retrieving his cap from the nightstand, he blew out the candles and left.

Stopping at Nathan's door, he lifted his hand to knock just as the door opened. Both men did a slight double take which, in Nathan's case, turned into a confused scowl. "What are you still doing here? I thought you'd be bounding up the steps of Gull Cottage by now."

"I'm on my way now," Daniel confirmed. "I just wanted to make sure that –"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Heaven's sake – you're really a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" He sighed, then looked Daniel straight in the eye. "Just so your mind's at ease and can start thinking about what _really_ matters: yes, the bulk of the crew has been turned out already; I _will_ be talking to Mr. Jennings first thing this morning about materials for repairs and I _will_ make sure everybody gets paid properly when the Holiday's over. And yes, I did distribute the cash reserve among the men so they'd have a little something for Christmas." He crossed his arms. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Daniel, who had listened in stunned silence to his first mate's tirade, just looked at him for a few moments, then smiled. "Yes – you can come up to Gull Cottage to celebrate Christmas with us and be my best man while you're at it."

Nathan broke into a broad smile at that. "Now that, I'll gladly do!"

"Good." Then, taking Nathan by complete surprise, Daniel enveloped his friend in a quick bear hug. "Thanks for everything, Nate," he said quietly, finding the words woefully inadequate considering what a rock Nathan had been for him on this voyage, but at a loss to find better ones.

Recovering, Nathan returned the gesture fully. "You're very welcome, mate." Stepping back, he clapped Daniel on the shoulder and waved his hand dismissively toward the stairs. "Now shoo – get going, already!"

With a laugh, Daniel nodded and started running toward the stairs, under the amused and tolerant gaze of his friend.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Daniel adjusted the canvas bag on his shoulder as he set out for the edge of town and the road that would eventually lead him home. He couldn't believe how excited he was as his long legs ate up the ground under his feet, the fresh snow crunching loudly in the quiet remnants of the night. His heart was already picking up speed, and he thought his face couldn't help but split from the grin that simply would not leave it.

Forcing himself to slow down a bit, if only to calm his racing thoughts, he took a deep, long breath and let it out while looking around him at the countryside. He almost came to a complete stop when his eyes fell on a tall, imposing oak, seemingly standing guard, alone, just outside the village. The sight brought a slow, soft smile and a faraway look to the seaman's face. He had kissed Carolyn for the first time under the young foliage of that mighty tree one spring evening after she had elected to walk him that far on his way home. Daniel smiled reminiscently as his gloved fingers traced his lips softly where hers had been. They hadn't known each other for very long at all at that point, she having moved to Schooner Bay only the previous fall, he having been gone for most of her time here. But the connection between them, the one that now pulled him home like a tether, had been apparent from the moment they had set eyes on each other. She had surprised him on that spring night, Daniel had to admit; he had fully expected her to push him away, slap him even, for wanting so much this early in their relationship. But no; she had leaned in and met him halfway. That's when he had known he was lost, and happily so.

Picking up his pace again, his expression grew thoughtful as he considered how much his life had changed since meeting his one true love. He who had prided himself on his independence and the freedom the sea afforded him now saw that very freedom as little more than a cage – a gilded one, admittedly, but a cage nonetheless – that he longed to escape to return by Carolyn's side. She was so much more than all the other women he had known; she staggered him with her beauty and unassuming grace. She could soothe the worst of his moods with the lightest of touches. And most irritating and impressive of all, she rendered him utterly speechless – he of the silver tongue and the honeyed words had a devil of a time trying to put into words everything she meant to him. So he'd had to resort to letters. Thankfully, the written word was something she had an affinity for, so she didn't begrudge him his silences. If she only knew how much his heart was brimming with the love he wished to express to her and couldn't!

Perhaps having been away from her for so long would help him speak his heart, he thought as he drew in a long breath of cold, cleansing air. Thoughts of her and of everything he had left unsaid before leaving on this voyage had been both a blessing and a curse, bringing his battered senses equal parts comfort and torment. To be honest, torment had been the order of the day for most of the first leg of this voyage. Then routine had set in and dulled the edge of the emptiness he felt somewhat. It's when things had really started to go downhill that she had become his lifeline, and the few minutes he had set aside each day to write to her had turned into a refuge he sought with more and more urgency. The few hours preceding their arrival, however, had been the worst by far: being so near, yet so far and unable to do anything but stay their course and hope their luck would hold had been sheer torture. Daniel smiled slightly as he recalled Nathan's efforts at cheering him up, for which he had been grateful. But in truth, he hadn't been able to start letting his guard down until he was safely in his room at the Inn, a fresh set of clothes and his meager belongings spread out on the bed.

The smile that had briefly touched his lips began to fade as doubt started clouding his handsome features. His intention, which he had made clear to Carolyn before his departure, was to marry her upon his return. But how could he ask her to marry him when all he had, other than the clothes on his back, was a canvas bag containing his work clothes and a stack of letters, and three silver pieces jangling in his pocket? Oh, he did have a bit of money set aside for a rainy day, but considering how disastrous his latest expedition had been, he would likely have to reach deep into that reserve to start anew as soon as winter showed signs of weakening. Unconsciously, he slowed his pace as more and more doubts assailed him. Would Carolyn even have him under the circumstances? And even if she were ready to take him, did he dare ask her? She already had to work her fingers to the bone to provide for herself and her family; adding to that burden was unthinkable.

But then, so was living without her, Daniel had to concede with a painful sigh. _Might as well swear off breathing for all the difference that would do_, he thought, torn between practicality and need. Pushing the thought momentarily from his mind, he rounded the last bend in the road leading him home. He stopped suddenly as he heard what sounded like voices just beyond the low stone wall surrounding Gull Cottage. Curious, he moved closer to see it was a group of carolers singing, appropriately enough, "I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing in on Christmas Day in the Morning." As he finally approached the gate, they turned his way, having finished the song and getting ready to head back down the road toward the village.

He lifted a hand in greeting, which the men returned with a tip of the hat and the ladies, more demurely, with a nod. Watching them briefly as they headed back, he finally turned toward the house and simply stood there for a few moments, letting the reality sink in. _I'm home_, he told himself, a little stunned, not quite grasping the significance of the sight before him. His eyes traveled up of their own will to the French doors on the second level, where his love lay. All the doubts that had invaded him on his walk here suddenly rushed in all at once, nearly overwhelming him. Forcefully, he tamped down on them, refusing to let them spoil what could conceivably turn out to be the happiest day of his life. _There's no help for it_, he thought resignedly as he opened the gate and stepped on the cobblestone path. _We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it._ Starting down the path, he stopped and, thinking better of it, made his way instead to the side door leading into the kitchen. A smile growing on his lips, he pushed the door open and walked in, very nearly losing his head in the process. For there stood Martha, a heavy pan in her hands, ready to do damage to whoever dared invade the house left in her care and, worse still, her culinary domain. Finally realizing who she was looking at, she let out a short, joyous yelp, put the pan down on the nearby island and quite unceremoniously enveloped the tall seaman in a tight hug he was more than happy to return. Stepping back, her eyes glistening, she gave the Captain a thorough once over, taking in the tired features and the bags under the merry blue eyes in one sweeping glance, then nodded, satisfied that, all things considered, everything seemed to be well with the master of the house. Smiling broadly up at him, she took him by the arm and began leading him toward the foyer. "Hungry?"

Just thinking about Martha's cooking on his way here had been enough to make his stomach growl; but all the aromas that had hit him the moment he had stepped through the door had his mouth positively watering. "Famished," he heartily confirmed.

"Good! I'll fix you the breakfast to end all breakfasts and you can tell me all about your voyage while I cook. But first things first." Winking saucily at him, she quickly made her way up the stairs to go wake Carolyn.

Dropping his bag, Daniel took off his cap and coat, laying them on the chair by the door, and breathed in deep the delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen as he waited for his love to rise. Then he stopped himself short, smiling mischievously as he moved to the front door. _Why wait?_ Laying his palm flat against the wood, he pounded loudly on the door, shouting exuberantly, "Good morning, woman! Where are you?", waiting impatiently for the reaction.

It wasn't long in coming. He had hardly moved away from the door when Carolyn appeared at the top of the stairs, in her nightgown and bare feet, a brilliant smile on her face. She was a vision, pure and simple, he thought as she raced down the stairs, her long hair flying. "You're here," she said, both happy and disbelieving, her hands reaching toward him, "you're _really_ here!"

"Of course! I promised!" As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, he picked her up, jubilantly whirling her about and murmuring, "Hello, beautiful," huskily in her ear, filling his senses with the feel of her. Putting her down, he held on to her hands, too moved by the sight of her to do anything more than gaze deeply into her emerald eyes.

"No ship made port in a week," she said softly, unable to tear her eyes away from his face or to even fully process the fact that he was actually, truly standing there. She had all but given up hope. _Well, it IS Christmas,_ she thought with a relief so great she was tingling all over. _If ever there was a time for miracles, this is the time._

Smiling softly, he began lowering his head toward hers as he replied, "I wasn't going to let a mere storm stand between my lady and me…" As his lips started brushing against hers, the patter of small feet was heard thundering down the stairs, accompanied by shouts of, "Captain Gregg!" and "You're here!" Giving Carolyn a look that said, _Later_, he moved to the two children and drew them into a hug, realizing anew how he had missed the little ones.

And just like that, all his doubts evaporated, to be replaced by utter contentment. The coming months would indeed be difficult; but thanks to the bedrock he was now standing on, this little family of his, he would get through it.

Everything was going to be just fine.

THE END


End file.
